


In a Snap

by ProofOfConcept, wilddragonflying



Series: Collaborations [67]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Living Together, M/M, No Real Angst, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Steve and Bucky Move to Wakanda, endgame rewrite, literally called 'that one where we fix the Russos fuckups' while we were working on this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 23:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20317519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProofOfConcept/pseuds/ProofOfConcept, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: The day Tony comes back to Earth, carried by the woman who introduces herself as Carol Danvers, is one of the best days that Steve’s had in a couple of weeks. Ever since the Snap, things have been... too quiet. The world - the whole fuckinguniverse- is still reeling from the loss of half of all living creatures, and Thanos has disappeared without a trace. Things looked bleak, but when Tony came back, Steve hoped -It was a foolish hope, he realizes in retrospect. To think that maybe Tony would know something, stuck in space as he was, that maybe he would work with Steve... But how could he?The raccoon and Carol help them pinpoint an essentially abandoned planet, one that experienced a shock like Earth’s Snap, but by the time they get there, it’s too late. The Infinity Stones are gone, and now Thanos is dead, head rolling across the floor. Not that Steve can blame Thor, but he would’ve liked to get a couple more punches in himself before the guy was dead.They go back to Earth, because they’re the Avengers, they’re Earth’s mightiest heroes. Where else would they go?





	In a Snap

**Author's Note:**

> So we actually finished this like... six weeks ago, we just haven't gotten it transferred to a doc and over here!
> 
> Basically, we saw Endgame and said 'fuck that noise' and fixed(almost) everything

The day Tony comes back to Earth, carried by the woman who introduces herself as Carol Danvers, is one of the best days that Steve’s had in a couple of weeks. Ever since the Snap, things have been... too quiet. The world - the whole fucking _universe_ \- is still reeling from the loss of half of all living creatures, and Thanos has disappeared without a trace. Things looked bleak, but when Tony came back, Steve hoped - 

It was a foolish hope, he realizes in retrospect. To think that maybe Tony would know something, stuck in space as he was, that maybe he would work with Steve... But how could he?

The raccoon and Carol help them pinpoint an essentially abandoned planet, one that experienced a shock like Earth’s Snap, but by the time they get there, it’s too late. The Infinity Stones are gone, and now Thanos is dead, head rolling across the floor. Not that Steve can blame Thor, but he would’ve liked to get a couple more punches in himself before the guy was dead.

They go back to Earth, because they’re the Avengers, they’re Earth’s mightiest heroes. Where else would they go?

There’s not much left for the Avengers to do, though, and Steve doesn’t blame Tony and Pepper for leaving as soon as they could. They were lucky to still have each other, and God knows they deserve a chance at happiness, now of all times. He finds them by the car they’re taking out of the compound for the last time, and steps forward, clearing his throat. “Tony?” he asks, hesitant, unsure; he and Tony haven’t been on good speaking terms for years, but he hopes that he’ll at least be able to make one thing even halfway right before Tony leaves. “May I speak to you for a moment?”

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. "For the love of God," he mutters - but he turns. "What now?"

Steve doesn't waste time. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry," he starts. "For everything. You were right, Tony - I wasn't there when you needed me, and that was my fault. The situation with the Accords was tough, but I should've handled it better than I did." Steve hesitates then, but he doesn't know when - or even if - he'll get a chance to say this, so he forges ahead. "And I'm sorry I kept the suspicions about the Winter Soldier and Hydra's involvement in your parents' deaths to myself. They were your family, I should have told you."

Tony blinks at him, for once seemingly at a loss for words, but after a moment he finds them again. "Yes," he says, "you should have. Told me, handled it better - all of it. But you didn't."

"No, I didn't," Steve agrees. "And I'm sorry for that - we were supposed to be a team, maybe even closer. But I didn't treat you like I should have, and I'm truly sorry for that. It's - This is just words, but." Steve takes a deep breath, blows it out. "I hope you have a good life, Tony. You and Pepper - you deserve it, more than almost anyone."

Tony nods, chewing idly on his bottom lip as he takes this in. "Thanks," he says, after another endless moment. "Are we done? 'Cause I was really hoping to beat the traffic."

Steve doesn't take it personally, just nods and steps back. "Yeah. I meant it, Tony - I hope you and Pepper can make a good life."

Tony waves a hand, already turning away. "Yeah, yeah," he says - but he hesitates with his hand on the car door. "Look after yourself, Rogers. Don't let the guilt eat you alive."

"I won't if you don't," is Steve's answer. "Drive safe."

* * *

The next few years are... chaotic, in a word. Steve and Natasha run operations from the former Avengers compound, but Bruce goes his own way, and Thor leaves to take care of his people. Steve doesn’t begrudge either of them their decisions. The temptation to leave is almost overwhelming, sometimes - usually after a night filled with dreams that are nothing more or less than memories. He never leaves, though. Can’t turn his back on this hurting world now anymore than he could decades ago.

The day Scott Lang shows up is the worst in a while. Steve can almost _taste_ the hope trying to take root in his soul, but he doesn’t dare let it yet, not when things are still so uncertain, when Scott’s plan is nothing more than hopeful ramblings. Eventually, he and Natasha share a look, a few words, and then Steve calls Tony for the first time in months.

They’ve spoken occasionally, never much more than brief conversations centered around important events - birthdays, Tony and Pepper’s wedding and then their anniversary, and the birth of their daughter, Morgan - but Steve’s never been more nervous waiting for Tony to answer.

"Gotta stop doing this, Rogers," Tony says when he finally picks up. "These cute little catch-ups about the whole bunch of nothing you've been doing with your life are gettin' real old."

”Yeah, they are,” Steve agrees, unable to muster the usual bantering tone he and Tony use with each other. “But I think... I told you I wasn’t going to hide anything, no surprises, Tony. Thought this would be better than just showing up on your doorstep. Lang showed up at the compound, today. He’s got an idea to get the Stones back.”

Tony heaves a sigh. "What? No," he says. "Whatever it is, it's not possible."

”I’d have said the same thing, but he’s here, and we thought he was dead. He’s got the research to back it up, Tony. Look, if you really don’t want to do this, then I’ll drop it, won’t bring it up again. But it might be worth taking a look at.”

There's a moment of silence, during which Steve can picture Tony shaking his head, rubbing a hand over his face. "All right. I'll bite. What's this genius idea?"

"Let me put you on speakerphone, we'll send FRIDAY the notes on the technology," Steve says, gesturing for Natasha and Scott to step closer. Natasha's already on her tablet, tapping away until she gives Steve a nod. "Scott, if you wouldn't mind?"

"Okay, so - hi, Iron Man, sorry about that whole thing in the airport, first of all. Second, I've spent the past five years in a place called the Quantum Realm, but to me it felt like five hours. Time's weird there, I know." This all comes out on one breath, and Steve barely resists the urge to remind Scott to breathe. "Hank Pym created the Pym Particles, details in all the notes we just sent you, but he had some minor successes going backwards in time using them to direct things through the Quantum Realm. Never quite worked out all the kinks, but he got close. Close enough for me to go to the Quantum Realm and survive. I think, with your help, we could make this work. Go back to a time when the Stones exist, grab them, make our own fancy-ass gauntlet and un-Snap the universe."

Tony doesn't even hesitate. "No," he says. "Hate to break it to you, but time travel isn't possible. Please don't call me next time you have a stupid idea."

Steve opens his mouth to say something, but Scott beats him to it. "It is! It's dangerous, I know, but Hank already managed it on a small scale - "

Steve raises an eyebrow at Natasha, gives her a grateful nod when she slaps a hand over Scott's mouth and muffles him. "We sent you the notes Hank had, everything we could find," he says. "If you want them, they're there. Say hi to Morgan and Pepper for us."

"Sure thing," Tony agrees, and Steve can tell he's already checked out. "Don't call us; we'll call you." The line goes dead.

* * *

Tony does call them. He calls them, tells them that he’s found a way to make it work, and he doesn’t say anything to Steve when he comes back except to give him the shield Steve had left behind in Siberia. Their plan is organized quickly, despite the troubles of coordinating almost a dozen people across half as many years. He, Bruce, and Tony go back to 2012, the year that Loki attempts to invade New York. They manage to grab the Mind Stone - after Steve beats the absolute _shit_ out of every single Hydra agent in that elevator, because he really didn’t savor that long enough the first time around - without issue, but then Loki escapes with the Tesseract. 

For a few minutes, they think that’s it, they’ve failed - but then Tony gets that look in his eyes, the one that says he has a plan, but it’s a long shot.

Turns out, it’s a long shot all the way back to 1970. It works, is the most important part. It works, and they get the Tesseract from 1970 before meeting back at their present. But then _Thanos_ shows up, the Thanos from 2014, and things get hairy. Steve ends up with Mjolnir in his hand, lightning cracking across the battlefield at his command. Steve thinks for a moment, when Thanos rallies and tears apart his shield like he’s crumbling a cookie, that that’s it - they’re done. Then he notices a yellow glow on the ground, hears a peculiar hissing behind him, and when he looks, every single person who had disappeared five years ago comes through portals. 

They have an army of their own to rival Thanos’s, and they use it. T’Challa, Peter Parker, and Carol play keep-away with the gauntlet and Thanos’s generals, but eventually Thanos himself intervenes and manages to snatch the gauntlet. Steve loses his breath, knows he can’t cross the field in time to stop him, but then Tony’s there, before being knocked aside, and Thanos raises his fist, voice echoing across the battlefield as he proclaims, “_I. Am... Inevitable._”

He snaps his fingers, the sound echoing hollowly.

Nothing happens. Thanos' look of surprise would be comical if it wasn't mirrored on the faces of every single person, human or otherwise, on the battlefield. At least, every person except Tony.

Tony, who is now holding up his own gauntlet, the stones glowing fiercely. "And I," he says, his voice shaking with emotion, "am Iron Man." He snaps his fingers.

Tony collapses almost immediately, and Steve runs as fast and hard as he can; Pepper and Peter get there first, and Steve arrives just in time to see that Tony’s alive - scarred, the flesh just barely visible above his suit an angry, blistering red. He’s breathing hard, but with Thanos and his entire army dissolving into dust around them, it’s safe enough to focus on keeping him stable.

The rest of the day is a frantic blur, getting Tony to a hospital, coordinating the return of everyone who had just come back and fought Thanos again back to their homes, but finally, _finally,_ Steve has a moment to find Bucky in the rubble. He doesn’t hesitate to haul Bucky in for a tight hug as soon as he’s in reach, his arms wrapping around Bucky’s shoulders as he buries his face in Bucky’s neck. “You’re really back,” he manages to get out past the lump in his throat.

"Yeah, pal," Bucky rasps, hugging Steve back just as fiercely. "Sorry it took me so long."

"Don't be, you couldn't have found a way back," Steve says, pulling back so he can drink in the sight of Bucky alive and _real _in front of him. "Fuck, I missed you."

"I missed you, too," Bucky murmurs, and though for him it's only been a few hours, he sounds like he means it just as much as Steve does. He runs his own gaze almost hungrily over Steve, assessing for injuries as well as just taking in the changes of the last five years, and his smile is breathtaking. "Looks like you've been doing pretty well for yourself, though. What are you, a god now?"

"I have no fuckin' clue," Steve laughs. "I don't even remember consciously reaching for Mjolnir, it was just... there. I mean, I'm not complaining; I've been waiting to kick Thanos's ass for _years._"

"Well, you did it," Bucky says, and he sounds so relieved, so proud. His attention flickers away from Steve though, over the rest of the battlefield, and . "You all did it." He looks back at Steve. "How's Stark?"

Steve sighs. "In critical condition. By all rights, using the stones should have killed him. It's only because he's a paranoid genius that they didn't. He built the replacement gauntlet, and then, from what Pepper and Queens tell me, he added additional measures into the suit, just in case Thanos threw another moon at him or something, I guess."

Bucky nods. "Thank God he did, right?" He sighs, rests a hand lightly on Steve's shoulder. "What about you?"

"I'm so fucking exhausted," Steve says honestly. "I'm on my last legs, right now. But as soon as we catch our breath, someone needs to put the Infinity Stones back when we got them."

Bucky blinks. "What?"

Steve gives Bucky a tired grin. "Time travel is real, and we used it to get the Infinity Stones after Thanos destroyed the ones he used for the Snap," he says, a brief, nowhere-near-complete explanation. "To keep things moving in the proper way, we need to put the Stones back exactly when we took them, and I'm probably going to be the one to go back and do it."

"No," Bucky says, flatly, instantly. "You're half dead. Send someone else."

"Bruce has to rebuild the machine first," Steve points out. "That'll take time, and I'll rest as much as I can until it's ready to go."

"No," Bucky repeats. "Send me, or Sam - someone who hasn't been working their ass off for the last five years."

"You guys just came back from being _dead,_" Steve argues. "And I haven't been working my ass off, not like you think. Surprisingly, not a whole lot of people tried to really take advantage of half the universe disappearing."

"If you haven't been fighting other people, you've been fighting yourself," Bucky shoots back - and then he sighs. "But this can wait. Are you itching to help with the cleanup or can I persuade you to lie down?"

Steve hesitates, glancing around - but he hadn't been joking when he'd said he was on his last legs. He aches all over, parts of his body are numb from the lightning, and he sighs. "Only if you stay with me," he says, giving Bucky his best pleading look. "You've disappeared on me too many times, I... I just got you back."

The smile Bucky gives him then is achingly soft. "I ain't going anywhere, Stevie."

* * *

Miracle of all miracles, Bucky manages to persuade Steve to go to the same hospital they took Stark to, rather than anywhere else. They're overworked and understaffed, but of course they find a bed for Captain America. It's a testament to how exhausted Steve is that he doesn't protest or demand to know if they turned somebody else away to free up the room.

Bucky isn't complaining, especially because Captain America is also allowed to keep a friend nearby past visiting hours. He tucks himself into the chair facing Steve's bed and waits while the nurses work their magic behind the thin blue curtain; by the time they're finished patching him up Steve has passed right out, so he declines their offer of coffee or a sandwich and waits some more. It takes about five hours for Steve to wake up and look like he can handle staying awake, and Bucky is ready.

"So," he says, once the nurses have checked Steve over once more and given him some toast, "can we talk about this like reasonable adults now?"

Steve offers Bucky a piece of his toast, munching on the other before saying, "Depends. There's not really anyone else who can handle taking the Stones back, Buck. The Quantum Realm is... It's dangerous. Anyone without some kind of protection is in a lot more danger than I am."

"The rest of your team managed it," Bucky points out, "and I'm the same as you, or there about. Send me."

"But they each only had to make one trip, carrying only one Stone," Steve counters. "This is going to be a very long trip, multiple jumps, and carrying all the Stones. And I'm not sending you when you just came back from the dead _again._"

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "You think I won't come back?" he asks.

"I'm saying I'm not taking that chance. You have Zola's serum, and the notes we were able to find on it weren't promising. Besides, anyone else who could definitely survive that many jumps is needed for rebuilding a lot more than I am."

"Why?" Bucky demands. "Why aren't you _needed?_"

"Because Captain America can be anyone," Steve answers, frowning. "Look, I'm not avoiding how dangerous it is, Buck. But it needs to be done, or things will get even more fucked up."

"You think I give a rat's ass about Captain America?" Bucky growls, angry now. "You think I ever have? Steve Rogers is needed."

"By who?" Steve demands. "You? Buck, you're my best friend, but that doesn't outweigh what's got to be done!" He hesitates for a moment, and then adds, "And I've got a promise to keep."

Bucky just looks at him for several long moments. "What promise?" he asks.

Steve takes a deep breath. "When I was putting the _Valkyrie _in the water, Peggy was on the radio. I promised her a dance I never delivered on."

"Oh." Bucky says it like a sigh, like all the breath has been punched from his body. He nods. "That makes sense. God knows you've earned it, right?"

Steve hesitates, feeling inexplicably like he and Bucky aren't on the same page, but... He doesn't want to push things, doesn't want to fight anymore with Bucky when he just got him back. "Yeah. She has, too."

Bucky smiles, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You've got a few days, though, right? To rest? You can't go anywhere in this state."

"Yeah, we need to wait until Bruce rebuilds the machine," Steve says. "I'll rest up while he does, I promise."

"You'd better," Bucky says. "Go back to sleep, and I'll see if they'll let you have something better than toast when you wake up."

Steve chuckles. "Alright, I will. Nice to see you still worry a lot."

Bucky rolls his eyes. "Some things never change. You sure as hell don't."

* * *

Sam comes by a few days later. Bucky is beyond relieved, because up until now it's been all he can do to keep Steve in bed. Sam at least provides a distraction.

"Most of the clean-up is already done," he tells them, settling himself into the chair furthest from Steve. "The Compound's a lost cause, but Stark's not in any fit state to care right now anyway. He's gonna be okay, though."

"Good," Steve sighs. "Any lasting damage besides the scars?"

"Too soon to tell," Sam says. "They're hoping not, but..."

Steve’s expression twists. “We’ve already lost enough people,” he mutters. “Thor lost almost all of his people, Nebula lost her sister, we lost Nat - “

Bucky's head snaps up, his eyes wild. "We lost _Nat?_" he rasps.

Sam looks equally shocked, and Steve winces. "Yeah," he says, clearing his throat roughly. "She - She sacrificed herself for the Soul Stone."

"I-- I'm sorry," Sam gets out. "I thought--"

"It's okay," Bucky says. He sounds hollow. "It didn't come up; I didn't ask."

Steve hesitates only a moment before reaching out to take Bucky’s hand in his, squeezing gently. “We all knew this was risky, and she knew that it was the only way to get the Stone. It still hurts, though.”

"Yeah," Bucky says, staring at Steve's hand. "Sorry, I just..."

"You knew her," Sam says. He shares a look with Steve, but continues. "She didn't tell us much, but she told us you knew each other, before."

”We’re all going to miss her,” Steve says quietly. “But... She was glad you got out, got help. Even if the circumstances weren’t the greatest.”

"She cared about you a lot, man," Sam offers, and Bucky manages a smile.

"Thanks."

The three of them lapse into a brief silence, one Steve breaks after only a moment. "So. Back from the dead, five years later," he says, looking from Bucky to Sam. "Got any plans?"

"Sleep," Bucky says flatly.

Sam laughs. "I dunno, man. Same old shit, isn't it? Even if Stark doesn't want to rebuild the Compound, we'll have to do something."

Steve laughs. "Yeah, there's gonna be a lot of adjustment for half the world coming back after five years," he agrees. "At least it's not seventy-five."

"Yeah, that would really suck," Bucky says darkly.

Sam smiles. "Looks like the team just grew a little, too. We need all the help we can get; it's gotta be all hands on deck now."

”Yeah, it will be,” Steve says. “But with everyone back, I think we’ll end up being okay. Gonna be rough in the meantime, though.” He hesitates, then decides he might as well try to get a second opinion while he’s got Sam here. “Has anyone filled you in on how we got the Stones?”

"Yeah," Sam says. "Not saying I understood the physics, but you all went back in time for them, right?"

”Yes. But, the thing is... The Stones have to go back to their times. Which means someone needs to take them back.”

Sam inhales slowly, suddenly aware of the glower Bucky is levelling at Steve. "Right," he says. "And that someone is you."

”Most likely,” Steve confirms. “We can’t spare someone for each Stone, and it’ll be difficult to carry them all at once, even without using them.”

"Are you going alone?" Sam asks.

Steve inclines his head. “That was the plan. There’s... not many people who can be spared if things go wrong. I’d be back _here_ within a few seconds if everything went fine, but if not, then...”

"Then what?" Bucky snaps, before Sam has a chance to ask.

”Then I don’t come back, and someone else picks up the shield,” Steve says evenly. 

Bucky lets out a shaky breath and looks away; Sam forces a smile. "Well it ain't gonna come to that, is it? So there's no use getting all worked up over nothin'."

”Hopefully not,” Steve says; he hadn’t realized he was still holding Bucky’s hand until he squeezes reflexively, a show of comfort. “I’m going to do my best to be back on time.”

* * *

Bruce has the quantum machine back up and running faster than expected; within a few days, he tells Steve that it’s ready to go. Steve relays the news to Bucky when he comes by that day, along with some news of his own. “I think I’m going to give up the shield for good.”

"Really," Bucky says flatly. He's not surprised.

Steve forges on, undeterred. "Yes, really. I think it's time, I've been Captain America for two decades now, and it... It's tiring."

Bucky sighs. "I bet it is," he says. "If anyone deserves to rest, it's you."

Steve gives Bucky a half-smile. “Yeah. Only other thing I need to decide is who to give the shield to. World’s not ready to be on its own yet, and the team will still need a Captain of some kind.”

Bucky winces. "Any ideas?"

"A couple," Steve says. "You're one of them, if you want to be."

Bucky actually laughs. "Me?" he demands. "You can't be serious."

"I am," Steve counters. "You're a good man, Buck. I think you could be a good Captain America. But if you don't want it, I've got someone else in mind, too."

"Wilson," Bucky guesses.

”Yes,” Steve confirms. “I think he’s got what it takes.”

Bucky sighs. "He'll do well," he says, "and he's earned it. Don't give it to me, Steve."

”I think you’ve earned it, too, if you want it,” Steve says. “But if you don’t, then I’ll give it to Sam. You’ve also earned a rest.”

"I haven't earned shit," Bucky says. "But I don't deserve it. And I don't want it. You should give it to Sam."

Steve opens his mouth, expression stubborn - but then he closes it and sighs. “I’m not gonna change your mind in one argument, but I think you’re wrong about not having earned anything,” he says instead, reaching over to put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “But I’ll offer the shield to Sam.”

Bucky nods. "Good," he says. "He'll be great."

They lapse into silence, but Steve breaks it quickly. “I’m going back tomorrow.”

Bucky takes a slow, steadying breath. "Are you sure?" he asks. "You're still in a hospital bed, which I've come to gather is unusual for you."

Steve makes a face. “I’m still here because I need to be at full strength to make that many jumps,” he admits. “Otherwise I’d be back out there helping to rebuild right now.”

Bucky knows that's not a shot at him, but he winces like it is anyway. "And are you?" he presses. "At full strength? It hasn't been that long since Thanos wiped the floor with you."

Steve snorts. “No, but the serum lets me recover faster. I’m as good as I’ll ever be, Buck.”

"And you're sure this is what you want?" Bucky asks, though he knows the answer.

Steve’s mouth twists into a wry smile. “I’m sure,” he confirms. “I need to do this, Buck.”

"Yeah," Bucky says, more to himself than to Steve. He gets to his feet. "Well, I'm sure you'll want your rest before the big event."

”Yeah, but I don’t need as much sleep as most other people,” Steve says, suddenly sitting up straighter in the bed. “You sure you want to leave?”

Bucky doesn't want to leave, it's the last thing he wants, but he says, "Yeah. That chair's killing my back, and Wilson said yesterday that there's a bed at the place they're staying if I want it."

Steve swallows back his disappointment. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

"If you want me there," Bucky agrees.

The corner of Steve’s mouth twitches upward. “Yeah, I really do.”

"Then yeah, I'll see you tomorrow," Bucky agrees. He swallows hard. "Get some sleep, Steve."

* * *

Steve’s stomach is rolling with nerves as he contemplates the machine before him. Bruce is standing behind the control console, fiddling with some final adjustments, and while Steve knows this will work, he suddenly can’t help but remember the fact that Natasha didn’t come back. He’s about to try making more jumps in one trip than anyone’s ever attempted before, and while he’s confident in the serum, in his healing, he’s still nervous.

Adjusting the strap on the shield, double-checking the case of Infinity Stones one last time, Steve steps over to where Bucky is standing off to the side, looking at the machine with an unreadable expression. “Hey,” Steve says, offering Bucky a smile when he looks over. “I’ll only be gone a few seconds.”

Bucky's own smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Yeah," he says, "I know. Unless something goes sideways, right?"

"I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure it doesn't," Steve says reassuringly. "Don't do anything stupid until I get back, alright?"

Bucky shakes his head, and he can't help the fond smile that lifts the corners of his mouth. "How can I?" he asks. He's _aching_. "You're taking all the stupid with you."

Steve’s own smile is fond as he turns away, back towards the machine that’s now humming as Bruce runs through the final checks. Steve sets Mjolnir by his feet, double-checks the latch on the box that holds the Infinity Stones, and gives Bruce a thumbs-up before picking Mjolnir up again. The machine hums louder, there’s a brief flash of light - 

And Steve’s gone.

Bruce immediately starts pressing more buttons. "And he's coming back in five, four, three, two..."

Nothing happens.

"Uhh." Bruce presses more buttons. "Just gimme a second, this thing is a little temperamental, I'll just..."

Bucky tunes him out. It doesn't matter how temperamental the machine is; Bruce can't fix this. He catches Sam shooting him a concerned look before running over to help, clearly expecting him to follow. Bucky just turns away.

* * *

Steve waits just outside of the Stork Club, double-checking the Pym Particles in his pants pocket. The Infinity Stones have all been returned to their times, and he'd had enough for this last jump before returning back to his time. The date has been burned into his memory, tinged with the panic and tears in Peggy's voice, so there was no way he could misremember the time or place. 

He spots her coming, steps out of the nook he'd tucked himself into to wait, and gives Peggy Carter a smile. "Hi, Peggy."

Peggy, understandably, goes very pale. "Steve?" she gasps, hastening to close the distance between them, to grip his arms with shaking hands. "I don't understand, I thought-- _How?_"

Steve moves them off of the sidewalk, into the mouth of a nearby alleyway. “It’s a very long, very complicated story,” he says with a wry grin. “But, when I had the chance to come back... I had to let you know that things would work out okay. I can’t tell you everything, but I needed to tell you _something._”

"What are you saying?" Peggy asks, her voice thick like it had been the last time they'd really spoken, just weeks ago for Peggy but eons for Steve. "What can't you tell me? Steve, Howard is still out there, right now, trying to _find your--_" She cuts herself off, and takes a sharp breath. Her gaze sharpens, too, and her grip tightens on Steve's arms, and her voice shakes when she says, "You're not _my_ Steve, are you?"

Steve shakes his head, his smile sad. “No, I’m not. For me, the year is 2023. I won’t be found for several more decades, and even then it’ll be an accident. But I... You and I, we got our happy endings, eventually, even though they weren’t with each other.”

Peggy can't even begin to comprehend that, and Steve doesn't expect her to. Because she's Peggy, though, she accepts it, and offers Steve a watery smile. "Then why are you here?" she asks.

”Well, I still owed you a dance,” Steve says gently. “Thought I’d take advantage of the opportunity to give us both some closure.”

"But you're not staying," Peggy says, her gaze burning with something fierce now. "Don't you dare tell me you're staying, Steve."

”No, I’m not,” Steve agrees easily. “I’ve got someone waiting for me to come back, Peggy. I can’t leave him again, not for good. But you... I wouldn’t be who I am now without you, Phillips, or Erskine taking a chance on me.”

Peggy's expression softens. "We believed in you," she tells him. "And you gave us every reason to. We only gave you a leg up, that's all. Everything else is all you."

”Well, I still needed that leg up,” Steve says with a wry grin. “And I still owe you a dance, if you want it.”

"Of course I do," Peggy says. She finally releases Steve's arms in favour of slipping a hand into his. "I don't suppose you've learned how to dance in the intervening years?"

”I picked up some things,” Steve laughs, leading Peggy out of the alley and towards the club. “I don’t have two left feet anymore.”

The smile Peggy gives him is just shy of a smirk. "I'll be the judge of that, Captain."

So, they get their dance. Steve manages to _not_ step on Peggy’s or anyone else’s feet through the entire thing, and when the evening is done, they make their goodbyes short and bittersweet. Steve retrieves his uniform from where he stored it, changes - and then travels back to his present.

* * *

"Just hang on a minute, he's not _stuck_, all right, and even if he is, it's not like we don't know how to get him back, just give me a second, before we panic just let me try something else, let me just--"

Bucky still isn't listening, isn't even looking, is about to start walking away without any intention to ever stop, but then there's a strange buzzing sound behind him followed by a flash of white light, and both Sam and Bruce cheer.

"See?" Bruce is crowing. "I told you! I told you he wasn't stuck!"

"Man, I never doubted you for a second!"

Bucky slowly rotates on the spot, desperately trying to quell the hope that just flared to life inside him, but it's all for naught. Because Steve... Steve's _back_.

"Oh man," Sam is laughing, ambling over to clap Steve on the shoulder as he climbs down from the platform. "You had us worried for a second there! What took you so damn long?"

Steve grins, catching Bucky's eye as he says, "I had a date to keep." He wraps an arm around Sam's shoulders, pulls him in for a quick hug. 

Sam returns the hug, still laughing when he pulls back. "Hey," he says, pointing at the shield now resting casually on Steve's arm. "Where did you get that?"

"2012," Steve answers, laughing sheepishly. "I told you how I had to kick my past self's ass, and then Loki escaped with the Tesseract? I figured his timeline was already screwed, might as well let him think Loki stole his shield, too. I had plans for this one."

"Oh yeah?" Sam asks, curious now. "What kinda plans?"

"Well," Steve says, slipping the shield off of his arm, stepping back so that he can hold it out to Sam. "Plans like passing it along to a new Captain."

For several long, terrible moments, Sam just gawps at him like a fish. "Me?" he gasps at last. "But what about--?" He looks over at Bucky; Bucky just nods, and he turns back to Steve. "Jeez. Are you sure?"

Steve smiles. "I am," he says, flipping the shield around so the straps face Sam "Try it on."

Beyond words now, Sam takes the shield, fits it onto guess arm and tests the weight of it. He gives Steve a quizzical smile.

”How’s it feel?”

"Like it's someone else's," Sam tells him.

”It’s not, not anymore,” Steve says, expression almost gentle. “It’s yours, if you want it.”

"Thank you," Sam says, voice rough with emotion. "I'll do my best."

"I know you will," Steve says, resting a hand on Sam's shoulder. "And if you need advice or backup, I'll be there as best I can. But for now... I think I've earned my retirement. I _am _over a hundred years old, you know."

"No one's gonna argue," Sam agrees. He glances back over at Bucky, and gives Steve a gentle, pointed nudge. "You gonna do something about that first?"

Steve flushes, coughing, before giving Sam's shoulder a shove. "I've got time to figure that out, now," he says, almost mumbles. "We'll see."

"Yeah, we'd better," Sam says, still smiling. "I hear retirement's no fun if you got no one to enjoy it with."

Steve rolls his eyes, smiling. “Go practice with the new shield,” he laughs. “You’re going to need it.” He leaves Sam’s side then, making his way over to Bucky, smile widening. “So, I know I was only gone a few seconds, but you didn’t do anything stupid, did you?”

"More than a few seconds," Bucky grumbles, but the sour tone is somewhat belied by the fact that he can't take his eyes off Steve. "Something go wrong?"

Steve shakes his head, smile softening. “No, I just - like I told you, I had a promise to keep. Needed to make a stop in 1945.”

"A stop," Bucky repeats. "As in, not permanent?"

”No,” Steve confirms. “Just tied up a loose end.”

"Oh." Bucky sighs. "Okay, that's... Well. It's your call."

Steve hesitates, head tilting as he studies Bucky. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Bucky says, and it's true - more than. "Just... glad to see you."

Steve smiles again. “Come on,” he says, turning away from the machine. “Let’s go get something to eat; I’m starving.”

* * *

Now that he's back on his feet, Steve wastes little time in getting stuck in with the clean-up effort. Bucky joins him, and they spend a few weeks working side by side with Sam and the rest of the Avengers - or what's left of them, anyway. Natasha's absence feels like a constant ache for all of them, and though he's going to pull through, Stark will never fight again. Steve goes to see him in the hospital on more than one occasion, Bucky staying behind each time, and it seems like they're on good terms again. Bucky is beyond relieved, and he can tell Steve is, too.

Their workload lessens each day, and eventually it becomes apparent that they don't need all hands on deck anymore. Sam makes a comment to Steve at dinner one night, a gentle, teasing observation that if Steve doesn't leave soon he never will, and then will Sam have to give the shield back? Steve laughs it off, but Bucky isn't surprised when he comes knocking later that evening.

Bucky lets him into the bedroom he's been calling his own since the night before Steve returned the Infinity Stones, and gestures for him to sit on the bed. "What's up?" he asks, though he has a good idea.

"I just got off a call with T'Challa," Steve says. "He's offered you your place back in Wakanda - he said that Okoye and Queen Ramanda missed you - and offered me a place there, too."

"Oh," Bucky says. He nods. "That's... decent, of him. You gonna take him up on it?"

Steve nods. "I think so," he says. "Wakanda is a beautiful place, and you seemed to like it there."

"I did," Bucky agrees. "It's peaceful there. But your home is here."

Steve's laugh is dry. "It's really not, not after the past five years, especially. Hasn't been ever since that mess with the Accords, honestly."

"You're not a criminal anymore," Bucky points out. "And you might not be fighting anymore, but these people are still your friends, your family."

"Maybe not, but Sam had a point when he said if I didn't leave I'd end up getting too involved in things," Steve says, shrugging. 

"And Wakanda is where you want to go?" Bucky asks.

"It's where I want to start," Steve says. "I can't think of anywhere else, especially if you're going to take T'Challa up on his offer."

Bucky's answering frown is more confused than angry. "Why?"

"I've seen you a grand total of, what, a couple dozen times in the years since DC? Before that, I thought you were dead, then I was worrying about you being on the run, and then you were _actually _dead. I want to see you sometime when we aren't worried about our lives or the state of the world," is Steve's answer. 

Bucky hesitates, looks like he's going to argue, but then he shrugs. "Okay," he says. "So we're moving to Wakanda."

* * *

So they move to Wakanda. They take the time to tie things up Stateside, and then they pack up what little they have left and make tracks. Bucky goes straight back to his goats and his little house in the woods, modest with three rooms all on one floor, and he doesn't think twice when Steve follows him. They drop their bags just inside the door and Bucky sets about throwing the windows open and airing the place out a little, leaving Steve to hover in the doorway. He doesn't even notice until he glances over several minutes later; he gives him a sheepish smile.

"Sorry," he says. "Make yourself at home." He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck and looking around like he's seeing the place for the first time. "I guess it's not much bigger than our old apartment, huh?"

That startles a laugh from Steve, who visibly relaxes and gives Bucky a grin. “Yeah, about the same size. But it's... cozier. And I like these background noises more than the city's."

Bucky smiles. "It's a lot different to what you're used to now, though," he points out. "T'Challa could probably have you set up with something more your style if you asked."

”And I will ask, if I decide I don’t really like living here instead of just visiting,” Steve counters, though he’s smiling. “Need help with anything? I don’t want to be a freeloader.”

"Nah," Bucky says, waving a hand. "I'll need to go out to the pastures, make sure everything's okay, but like I said, just make yourself at home."

”Alright,” Steve says, grabbing his bag and moving towards the bedroom. “Mind if I move some of your things around a little in the closet?”

"No," Bucky says, his smile a little tight around the eyes. "Whatever you need."

Steve hesitates, but then nods, heading for the bedroom. He hears Bucky leave and sets about making some room for his things; he does his best not to disturb Bucky’s things too much, and makes a mental note to see about buying a chest of drawers or something in the market as soon as possible. Once he’s done with that, he turns to leave - only to freeze in his tracks when he catches sight of the bed.

The _bed,_ singular.

Steve curses quietly, pushing the issue from his mind for the moment; they can deal with that later. Instead, he makes his way out of the house and to the shed that houses Bucky’s goats, smiling when he catches sight of Bucky surrounded by almost a dozen of the beasts. “Looks like they missed you.”

Bucky smiles, holding out a hand for the nearest goat to lick. "I've missed them," he admits. "They've been well looked after, though."

"You mean they all look fat," Steve says dryly, patting the side of the one who came up to sniff at his shirt. 

Bucky laughs. "Not much fatter than they were," he says. "Spoiled bastards."

Steve grins, coming to squat down next to Bucky. "Don't think I've seen you smile this much since you came back," he says quietly. "I'm glad to see you happy - even if where you're happy smells like a bunch of goats."

Bucky's smile turns bashful, and he turns his head, his gaze roaming over the goats milling around them. "It's peaceful here," he tells him, voice soft. "I like it." He takes a breath. "But what about you? You've come all this way, dropped the shield again, for good this time. What's gonna make you happy, Steve?"

Steve doesn’t answer for a moment. “I’m not sure,” he says eventually. “It’s been... a long time since I’ve thought about _me,_ about what I want instead of what I need to do to protect the world and everyone in it, or keep the peace. I guess I’m hoping I can figure that out now.”

Bucky turns back to him, smiles that smile again. "Well," he says, straightening up and holding his hand out to Steve, "I doubt you're gonna figure it out up to your ankles in goat shit. Come on."

Steve takes Bucky’s hand, letting Bucky help him back to a standing position. “You got something in mind?”

Bucky laughs. "Why don't we start with a home-cooked meal?"

* * *

They do; Bucky is a far better cook than Steve has ever been, and Steve’s all too happy to fetch supplies and otherwise stay out of the kitchen. Dinner is a simple affair, seasoned meat with fried vegetables as a side, but it’s possibly the best damn thing Steve’s tasted in years. They kill some time afterwards with their tablets, both of them curled up on their own cushions with their reading material, but when Steve goes for a shower, he’s abruptly reminded of the dilemma they still need to solve. 

He ponders it through his shower, ultimately bringing it up as he steps out of the bedroom afterwards, toweling his hair dry. “Hey, Buck,” he says, as casually as he can. “You realize there’s only one bed in this place?”

Bucky's answering laugh is a little awkward. "Uhh, yeah," he says, his cheeks slightly pink. "I guess it's a lot like it was before, huh?"

”Yeah, but at least this bed’s big enough for the both of us, and I don’t have the bony elbows anymore.”

"No," Bucky agrees, "you're just a furnace now, and you snore like nothin' I ever heard." He grins. "At least, you did during the war."

Steve snorts. “I still snore,” he admits. “Sam threatened more than once to tie a pillow over my mouth.”

"Now there's an idea," Bucky teases. "Do you still kick like a bastard, as well?"

”Do you still hog all the pillows?” Steve counters, throwing his towel at Bucky’s head. “Go get a shower, jerk.”

Bucky snatches the towel and drapes it over his own shoulders, even though it's still damp from Steve's shower. "Whatever," he says. "You better have left me some hot water, you punk."

"Glare at it hard enough and you can heat the water yourself," Steve calls back, grinning. "Just think of all the fights I used to get into, that oughta do it."

Bucky uses his new left hand to flip Steve off and shuts the bathroom door behind him.

* * *

They're both tired enough after their day of travelling and settling in that they pass out almost as soon as their heads touch the pillows, so the first night in the same bed isn't too awkward. The next morning Bucky rises first, takes care of the goats and some chores and cooks breakfast while Steve goes for a run and has another shower, and then suggests that they get out of the house for a bit, show Steve around. They end up at the local market, looking for inspiration for dinner, when Bucky gets distracted by the conversation between a grocer and a customer. He doesn't even notice that he's completely tuned Steve out until he looks over and realises he's watching him expectantly, a different kind of apple held in each hand.

"Sorry," Bucky says, shaking his head as if to clear it. "What did you say?"

"I was just asking which kind you preferred," Steve says, looking at Bucky with a raised eyebrow. "Interesting conversation?"

"Yeah," Bucky says, still distracted enough that it takes him a moment to remember that Steve still hasn't picked up much Xhosa. "Uhh, they're talking about rebuilding. With half the population gone, I guess a lot of places have been really neglected - and the agriculture and stuff has suffered, too. But now that everyone's back, we need all those things again."

Steve considers that for a moment. "What kind of rebuilding?" he asks, carefully putting the apples back so he can step closer to Bucky. 

"Some, economical," Bucky says, frowning. "Some, literal. It has been over five years. I guess some buildings fell down? I don't know."

Steve doesn't hesitate. "I'd like to help. I might need a translator, or maybe some lessons at least? But I want to help."

Bucky blinks. "Okay," he says. "Do you want to go over?"

Steve nods. “Yeah, let’s at least see what exactly needs to be done,” he decides. “Could you teach me Xhosa? I know you’ll be busy with the goats and the farm, I don’t want to pull you away from that or make anyone else speak English more than they have to.”

"Sure," Bucky agrees. He and Steve make their way over to the grocer and his companion, and Bucky calls out a friendly hello, apologises for interrupting. "_My friend and I couldn't help overhearing, and he's interested in helping with the rebuilding effort,_" he explains.

The two eye Steve speculatively before turning back to Bucky with a grin. “_He looks strong,_” the grocer says, chuckling. “_He would be a great help moving heavy things. And encouraging the young men to work harder instead of goofing off._”

Bucky laughs. "_He doesn't speak much Xhosa, but we're working on it,_" he offers. "_He was looking for a little more information?_"

"_We are opening up abandoned buildings, and rebuilding some that were torn down for other uses,_" the grove's companion explains. "I am Themba and this is Nomlanga. We welcome your friend's help, White Wolf, and would be glad to help teach him isiXhosa."

Bucky thanks them, and then relays all of this to Steve. "What do you think?" he asks.

"I think that sounds like a good plan, and I am more than willing to help however I can," Steve says, grinning. 

* * *

Steve starts working the very next day; first, the people in charge of the reconstruction effort want to open up, clean out, and refurbish the still-standing buildings that had been closed up after the first Snap. It’s a long day of hauling wood and stone and tools, made easier by Themba and Nomlanga’s help with Xhosa so that Steve could at least understand where he needed to be moving things. Lunch is provided for the workers, and Steve spends his time between bites of food reviewing the words he’d already learned. Then, it’s back to work.

After work is stopped for the day, Steve returns back to Bucky’s farm, helps with the evening chores and with dinner as much as he can, and then he and Bucky chat about their days over food before retiring to the living room area to browse their respective tablets. The second night in the same bed is slightly more awkward; neither of them are as tired as they had been the night before, more aware of what they’re doing and how different the circumstances are.

Still, they _have_ shared a bed and even a bedroll before, after the incident with the campfire in the forest outside of Vienna, and they both drift to sleep eventually. The next day is more of the same, Steve glad for once of his new, improved memory; it makes picking up Xhosa a breeze, at least for hearing. _Speaking_ is another matter, and he gets plenty of ribbing for his absolutely atrocious accent over the next week. By the end of the week, he can speak Xhosa passably, and understands more than he speaks, but Nomlanga, Themba, and the other workers are impressed with how quickly he’s picking it up.

”_Of course, we should not be,_” Themba jokes one evening as he hands a parcel to Steve; it smells divine, spicy and rich, and Steve can’t wait to open it. “_White Wolf was just as quick to learn our language, though his accent was better. Tomorrow is a day of rest, Rogers; take that meal as our thanks for your help, and enjoy tomorrow with your friend._”

”_Thank you,_” Steve says, grinning as he carefully tucks the food under one arm. “_Enjoy your day as well, tomorrow._”

As he starts walking away, Nomlanga calls out, “_Maybe you should try speaking isiXhosa with White Wolf; work on your foreign white accent!_” Steve simply laughs, tossing a wave over his shoulder as he walks.

The walk back to Bucky’s farm is easy, the breeze just strong enough to keep the heat of the sun from settling in fully. Steve drops the food off in the kitchen, following the instructions written on the wrapping for storing it, before he heads towards the barn in search of Bucky. He’s not surprised to find Bucky in a stall with one of the nannies, hands running over her flank as her kids use Bucky’s back as a springboard. “You look like you’re having fun, being goat playground equipment,” Steve laughs, leaning on the wall. “Everything okay?”

Bucky straightens up, much to the dismay of the kids, and looks over to give Steve a warm smile. "Yeah," he says, "just checking in. N'Dontu told me she had a rough birth." The previous owner of the farm retired a few months before Thanos came to Wakanda, but he and his son survived the Snap and cared for the goats in the intervening years. Bucky is beyond grateful.

”Her kids look like they’re fine,” Steve laughs, watching one of them headbutt Bucky’s calf. 

"They are," Bucky agrees. He gives the nanny a scratch under her chin and takes the time to pet each of the kids before carefully extricating himself from the mass of limbs and headbutts and letting himself out of the stall. "I just worry, y'know?" He wipes his hands off absently on his jeans and looks up, still smiling. "But enough about me. How was your day, honey?"

Steve blinks, thrown by the nickname, but recovers easily. "Busy as usual. We're done opening the second building, now it just needs to be refurbished. Themba gave me some food for tomorrow, since it's a day of rest."

"Not for me," Bucky laughs. "No rest for the wicked."

"I'm sure you can take _some _time off," Steve says, wheedling. "We could go down to the lake for the afternoon."

"You don't ask for much, do you?" Bucky teases.

Sensing weakness, Steve presses on with his most pleading expression. "Please? We haven't gotten a chance to do much this week. I'll even help with morning chores."

Bucky heaves a put-upon sigh, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Fine," he says. "But you don't have to help me. You've been working hard enough."

”What if I want to help you?” Steve counters with a laugh. “I might need to know how to take care of the goats one day, if you get sick or something.”

"We don't get sick," Bucky points out, but he knows what Steve means. "God knows I've never been able to stop you from doing whatever you want, though."

Steve beams. "Look at it this way, if I help, we'll be done faster and can spend more time at the lake," he points out with a grin. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say, doll," he drawls. "Come on, I'm starving and I need a shower. So do you."

”At least I’m not the one who spends his day surrounded by goat shit,” Steve retorts, already bolting for the house before Bucky can do more than yell after him in indignation. 

* * *

Steve does, indeed, help with the chores the next morning, listening carefully to Bucky’s instructions. He does his best to be a help and not a hindrance, and sure enough, the goats are taken care of and the barn tidied up much earlier than usual. Steve’s all but bouncing on the balls of his feet as he and Bucky gather their things and strike out for the path to the lake. “It’s been forever since I’ve been able to have a vacation of any kind,” he confesses. “I... Honestly don’t think I’ve done something like this since I came out of the ice.”

Bucky shoots him a sharp look. "Then what _have_ you been doing?" He points a warning finger at him. "And don't say 'saving the world'."

Steve shuts his mouth, a slightly-guilty look on his face. “Trying to keep the world from going to shit?” he tries instead. “Fighting drug lords, crime rings, corrupt governments... I don’t know, Buck, there was always someone who needed help.”

"What about you?" Bucky asks, his tone mild, almost curious. "What about when you needed help?"

Steve shrugs. “I had the team, or if I really felt like I needed it, a therapist. I never knew when there’d be call for the Avengers, though, so I could never take a vacation.”

Bucky's expression betrays his urge to call bullshit, but he just sighs and gives Steve a small smile. "Well, I guess now's your chance."

The two of them make small talk the rest of the way to the lake, teasing each other in something close to that old, familiar way. When they finally round the last turn in the trail, Steve's breath catches in his chest, and he stops, stares in breathless wonder. "_Oh,_" he breathes. "This is - Fuck, I wish I had my sketchbook."

"We could go back and get it," Bucky offers, though he looks surprised. "I didn't know you still draw."

"Sometimes," Steve says with a small smile. "It's alright, I'll just bring it next time. C'mon, let's go find a good place to set up our stuff."

They find a patch of grass on the bank of the lake that's still green and bouncy, a tree near enough that they can escape the sun if they need to, and set about unpacking the small picnic Bucky put together before they left. Steve is about to get stuck in when Bucky reaches into the bag he thought was empty one last time, and launches what he finds there right at him. It hits him square in the chest and falls to his lap; when he looks, it's a bottle of sun lotion.

"Shirt off, Rogers," Bucky says lightly. "You may be damn near invincible now but you still burn."

Steve makes a face at Bucky, but obligingly removes his shirt, starts applying the sunscreen. "What about you? You always burned something awful."

"I don't burn, I tan," Bucky corrects, watching Steve apply the sun lotion with a critical eye. "Besides, I'm not exactly one for stripping down these days."

Steve pauses, glancing at Bucky. “Oh,” he says, quietly. He hesitates, then turns his back towards Bucky, offering him the bottle of lotion over his shoulder. “Can you get my back?”

Bucky sighs. "Sure." He takes the bottle and carefully squeezes some lotion into his right hand, leaning over to start rubbing it into Steve's shoulders. It's silent and tense between them for a long moment, so just as he's getting to Steve's lower back, he says, "I will throw you in the lake if you make this weird."

Steve twists, looks over his shoulder at Bucky, confusion writ clear across his expression. “What?”

Bucky is unimpressed. "Don't 'what' me," he says. "You don't need to feel sorry for me, okay? I'm fine."

”I’m not - That’s not it,” Steve protests, looking at Bucky with wide eyes. “I just... I didn’t think.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. "It's fine," he repeats. "Just don't make it weird."

”Well now I’m just going to be worrying about that all day,” Steve complains. “How am I supposed to know for sure what will make things weird and what won’t?”

"Just stop looking at me like I'm gonna break," Bucky laughs. "Enjoy the day. Eat your goddamn salad."

Steve rolls his eyes. “Excuse me for being worried about my best friend,” he huffs, though he’s clearly fighting a smile. “You better not have packed _all_ salads, or I’m going to throw you into the lake.”

"There's plenty to keep you going, don't worry," Bucky says, all fond exasperation. "See for yourself."

Steve does, leaning over to do so. “There’s an awful lot of vegetables,” he grouses when he sits up, “but I suppose that’s alright.” He eyes Bucky speculatively, and then tries, “So, you’re really going to make me be shirtless all by myself?”

Bucky's jaw sets. "You're making it weird," he says flatly.

Steve tries his best pleading expression, the one that got him out of almost any trouble Bucky might have had in mind for him before. “Please?”

"I hate you," Bucky grouses, but he's already reaching for the hem of his shirt. "If you say _anything_..."

Steve mimes zipping his lips, though the effect is spoiled by the grin on his face. He quickly turns back to the food, grabbing a salad for himself and another for Bucky, passing the second salad and utensils over once Bucky’s shirt has joined Steve’s by the tree. “You didn’t bring any dressing, did you?”

"I did, actually," Bucky says. His voice is only a little strained, to his credit. "It's in there somewhere."

Steve nods, turning to dig through the pack again until he finally makes a noise of triumph, emerging with a bottle of Caesar dressing. “Found it! Fell all the way down to the bottom of the pack.” He unscrews the top, pouring some over his own salad before passing the bottle over to Bucky, keeping his attention on his salad as he starts eating. 

Bucky digs into his own salad after adding considerably less dressing than Steve, and they eat in relatively pleasant silence for a little while. Bucky can tell Steve keeps trying to steal looks at him, though, and he loses patience quickly. "So how's the rebuilding coming?" he asks. "Do they think it'll take long?"

Steve nearly chokes on his mouthful of salad. ”We’re making good progress,” Steve says, clearing his throat. “It’ll be a while yet before we’ve got everything opened up that needs to be.”

"You'll get there," Bucky says, with confidence. "And you're enjoying it?"

”I am,” Steve says, smiling. “It’s good work. Not exactly what I want to be doing for the rest of my life, but it’s good work, and it’s helping. What about you?”

Bucky smiles. "Can't complain," he says. "It's better than a lot of things, not worse than many."

Steve hums at that, a vague noise of agreement. They fall quiet again as they finish their salads, relaxing in the shade offered by the tree. Steve tidies up their silverware, tucking them back into the pack, and then, without his sketchbook, there’s nothing to distract him from Bucky. He tries not to be _obvious_ about looking, but he can’t help sneaking looks. 

"Steve," Bucky says, after twenty minutes of this. He grinds his teeth. "What."

"Sorry," Steve says, whipping his head around, focusing out on the lake. "Sorry, I didn't mean to - Sorry, I'll stop."

Bucky rolls his eyes. "Just say it," he says. "Whatever it is. It's gotta be better than this."

Steve bites his lip, hesitating for another moment before he admits, "There's less scarring than I thought there would be."

Bucky grimaces. "You're probably the only person who thinks that."

Steve glances at Bucky, frowning. “What do you mean?”

"They're pretty fuckin' awful, Steve."

”No, I know that they are, I’m not - “ Steve blows out a breath. “I’m not saying they _aren’t_ awful,” he says slowly, frowning slightly as he struggles to sort out what he wants to say. “I’m saying... The physical doesn’t match the reality? Of how awful the whole experience must have been, I mean. Curse of the serum, I guess.”

"I guess," Bucky allows. He sighs. "That all you got, then?"

Steve sighs. “I’m just going to shut up now,” he agrees.

Bucky shakes his head. "I'm not made of glass, Steve," he says. "I lived it; I remember all of it. I'm not okay, but I'm not broken."

"But you feel like you're making progress?"

"I'm still here, aren't I?"

Steve's smile, when he glances at Bucky, is soft, proud. "Yeah, you are. Against all odds."

Bucky indulges him for all of five seconds before he springs to his feet and grasps Steve beneath the arms. "All right," he says, already dragging Steve towards the lake. "Come on."

”_No!_” Steve shrieks, half-protest, half-laugh; he struggles in Bucky’s grip, but there’s no escaping it. “No, shit - Bucky, _don’t you dare!_”

"Oh, I dare," Bucky laughs, full and hearty. They both know Steve can get away if he really wants to; they both know he won't. "I told you," he goes on, his feet slipping a little as he hauls Steve down the bank, "not to make it weird." And then he twists mid-stride, and uses all of his strength to launch Steve into the lake.

Steve screeches as he hits the water quite a distance out, floundering until he's close enough to shore to get his feet under him. "You jackass," he growls, any intimidation lost in the face of his helpless laughter as he takes off after Bucky. "Get back here!"

Bucky's already running, laughing gleefully now as Steve chases him around the lake. "What are you going to do about it, Rogers?" he calls over his shoulder. "I'm not Wilson; you can't lap me to hell and back."

"Maybe not," Steve calls, grinning. "But I'm still faster than you!" He puts on a burst of speed, lunging forward and just managing to wrap his arms around Bucky's legs. 

Bucky falls to the ground with an undignified yelp, but he takes Steve with him, still laughing. He squirms until he can roll over, Steve's legs impossibly tangled with his own, and he grins up at his captor. "You're such an asshole," he says. "And you're heavy, too."

Steve makes a face at him, the effect ruined by the grin he can't get rid of. "Speak for yourself, cyborg," he teases, drumming his fingers lightly against Bucky's left arm. "That might be vibranium, but it's still heavy."

"Well," Bucky says, "you must be over it if you're making fun of it now."

”I’m making fun of _you,_” Steve corrects with a smirk, shifting just enough to let the two of them settle more comfortably on the ground. “Calling me heavy, the _nerve._”

"It makes a change," Bucky says, his gaze going soft as he smiles. "In most of my memories I could lift you with one arm. The good one."

Steve just barely remembers to turn his head in time to avoid snorting directly in Bucky's face. "I was a skinny little twerp," he agrees, chuckling. "Probably a good thing though, in the end. Can't count the number of fights you had to drag me away from."

"Or the amount you managed to drag me into," Bucky says. He sighs, his smile still soft. "I guess not a lot has changed."

"Not really," Steve hums, reaching up with one hand to unthinkingly brush away a strand of hair that's fallen into Bucky's face. "Not the things that mattered."

"No," Bucky agrees, leaning into Steve's touch. "Everything that matters is still right here."

Steve's gaze softens, his smile a small, fond thing. "I'm really glad you're here, you know that?" he murmurs, leaning in closer. 

"I do," Bucky tells him. He's leaning in, too. "I'm really glad you're here with me."

They're close enough that Bucky can feel Steve's breath ghosting over his face when an excited cry has them springing apart. "_White Wolf! White Wolf! We'll save you!_" They're overrun by children a moment later.

"What are you - _oof! _Hey, watch it!" Steve rolls with the force of three kids hitting him at once, careful not to knee Bucky in the side or hit any of the children. "Hey, take it easy! What's this about saving White Wolf?"

"We're saving him from you!" one of the boys cries, grinning from ear to ear.

Bucky laughs. "You did just tackle me," he points out.

"You threw me in the lake!" Steve protests, scrambling to his feet. 

A wicked gleam enters the closest girl's eyes, and Steve gulps. "Let's put him back in the lake!"

The kids immediately start dragging Steve back towards the lake, and Bucky laughs aloud when Steve just lets them. "_Good job, kids,_" he calls calls after them. "_Teach him a lesson!_"

Steve goes protesting the whole way, but when he finally surfaces, spluttering, the grin on his face is larger than it’s been in years.

* * *

”Hey, Bucky!” Steve calls towards the barn as he walks back from the village, arms pleasantly sore from a hard day’s work of moving materials too heavy for most of the others to move alone. “We’ve got a guest!”

Some of the goats bleat balefully at him from within the barn, but Bucky at least looks happy to see him when he pops his head out of the door. "What kind of guest?"

”The kind with wings and a shield,” Steve answers, grinning as he steps to the side, revealing Sam standing behind him. 

Bucky's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, but he's grinning, and he wastes no time in walking up to him and shaking his hand. "What brings you to our neck of the woods, Cap?"

”Well, I was _trying_ to get away from people calling me that,” Sam complains good-naturedly. “T’Challa asked me to come by, there was some sort of meeting going on about the new Avengers.”

Bucky glances between Sam and Steve. "A good sort of meeting?" he asks.

Sam nods. "Well, good but boring," he amends. "Lots of logistics, rebuilding the compound, how to handle international incidents, things like that."

"At least you're the ones making those decisions, not just governments," Steve says, frowning slightly before he shakes his head. "How long are you free?"

"Today and tomorrow," is the answer Sam gives, pushing a friendly shove against Steve's shoulder. "Long enough for you to show me how to throw the damn shield properly; I can't get it to bounce the way you can."

Bucky grins, but he hesitates when he realises there might be an issue with the logistics of this plan. "Are you... staying with us?" he asks slowly.

"Nah," Sam says easily. "I've got a room in the village for the night before I head back to the capital tomorrow evening."

"Oh, that's great." Bucky can tell he's not the only one who's relieved. "Well, I'm just about finished here - do you want to stay for dinner?"

"That would be great, thanks," Sam says with a grin. 

"I'll take you up to the house," Steve volunteers. "Buck, you want me to get dinner started?"

"Sure," Bucky agrees. "I don't think I'll be long, but you never know with these assholes."

Steve snorts. "Just remember to lock up the grain this time _before _you come back to the house," he says with a grin. "C'mon, Sam."

It's a short walk up to the house, and Sam's eyes are wide when Steve lets them into the kitchen. "Wow," he says. "This place is great. Did Bucky get it when he took over the farm?"

”He did,” Steve confirms, smiling. “It’s not the biggest house around, but it’s not like there’s more than the two of us living in it usually. And if that ever changes, it’ll be easy enough to build an addition. Wipe your feet.”

Sam laughs, but does as he's told. "So you're living with him," he says. "Permanently?"

Steve shrugs. “For the foreseeable future,” he confirms. “It’s what we both wanted, getting to be together after the war. Just... took us a while to get there, in the end.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. "Getting to be together," he repeats.

”Yes?” Steve says, frowning. “Why are you saying it like that?”

"Just interesting," Sam tells him. "I did think this place looked a little small for two bedrooms."

Steve's face flushes, and he clears his throat. "Nah, just the one. It's a big bed though, and we're used to sharing."

Sam smirks. "I bet you are."

Steve rolls his eyes, reaches over to give Sam a shove hard enough to make him stagger. "Knock it off; we're just being practical."

"Jeez, man, you know I don't care," Sam says, still smiling but a little surprised. "You know about-- about Riley. Who am I to judge?"

Steve's expression softens. "I know. But it's not like that with me and Buck; never has been." There's a note of wistfulness in his voice, just barely there. 

Sam's expression softens, becomes something more sympathetic. "You sure about that?" he asks.

"I'm sure." Steve's voice carries a note of finality to it, and he sounds sincere when he adds, "I'm happy with the way things are, Sam. He's alive, and we're able to take time for ourselves now. That's what's most important to me."

"All right." Sam smiles. "Just make sure you're looking after yourself, all right?"

"I will," Steve promises. "Make yourself comfortable, I'm just going to get dinner started. Want something to drink?"

"Whatever you're having," Sam says, wandering further into the kitchen. "Do you need any help?"

They pass the next half hour or so with pleasant chitchat and good wine. Bucky comes home right around the time Sam finishes dinner - because he took over right around the time he realised that Steve still can't cook for shit - and gives them both a warm smile. "It smells great in here. Sorry I took so long."

"You're fine," Steve says, waving off Bucky's apology. "And thank Sam for that, otherwise you'd have come back to all the windows open to air out the burnt sauce smell."

"I am surprised," Bucky admits. "What are we having?"

"Creamy lemon garlic chicken," Sam answers, stirring the pot of noodles. "Steve's contribution is the salad, which he somehow managed to toss without throwing it all to the ground."

"Oh fuck you," Steve complains, but he's laughing. 

"He never did learn how to take a compliment," Bucky says, grinning at Sam. "Do I have time to wash up?"

"Yeah, you've got time," Sam says. "Noodles will be done in a few and then we'll be ready to eat."

"Perfect," Bucky says, already heading for the bathroom. "Don't start without me."

They do not, in fact, start without Bucky. Dinner goes by quickly with good food and good conversation, but almost as soon as they’re done, one of the village children is knocking on their door, asking for Steve’s help getting some materials moved in preparation for the work he and his team will be doing tomorrow. Steve says his goodbyes to Sam before leaving, and Sam waits until he’s gone to address Bucky. “So,” he starts, scrubbing at a stubborn spot on one of the plates in the sink. “You and Steve have been living together for a while, huh?”

"Just like old times," Bucky agrees, taking the plate from Sam so that he can dry it. " This place has been good for him, I think."

”It’s a beautiful country,” Sam agrees. “Peaceful, too. What about you? Has it been good for you?”

Bucky smiles. "I think so."

Sam hums, letting the two of them fall into silence for another few minutes before prodding, "You said this was just like old times?"

Bucky nods. "Except that I haven't had to drag him home from some back-alley scrap just yet."

Sam laughs at that. "Peaceful as Wakanda is, I doubt that'll happen anytime soon," he says thoughtfully. "The two of you share a bed back in 'old times,' too?"

Bucky's eyes widen, but to his credit, he doesn't blush. "Yeah," he says. "We had no money, and our apartment was freezing. We couldn't afford Steve to get sick even more than he normally did."

Sam hums idly. "He doesn't get sick now unless everyone else is dying of the plague."

Bucky shrugs. "Can't magic up a second bedroom. It's not like I knew he'd be moving in with me when I took over this place."

"Fair enough," Sam concedes. "But you know, if there was another reason... We'd all be happy for you two."

Now Bucky does blush. "I don't know what you're talking about," he says.

"Well that was extremely convincing," Sam says dryly. "Look, man. I know what it's like, okay? Every part of it. I'm just saying, after everything you two have been through, you deserve your shot at happiness."

"This is my shot at happiness," Bucky tells him. "Anything else would be..."

"A pipe dream?" Sam suggests, his tone gentle. "I used to think so, too. Scared the shit out of me when I first told Riley how I felt. Scariest part was, he felt the same."

"What happened?" Bucky asks.

"Well, first he gave me a whole bunch of shit for not saying something sooner," Sam says with a smile. "There was something along the lines of 'we could've been fucking for _months,_' I believe. Then he told me he felt the same, and kissed me. We got a couple of years before we shipped out, and then... We got a couple years in a war zone before he died."

Bucky's breath, when he releases it, comes out shaky. "I'm sorry," he offers, though he's sure it doesn't mean much.

"We got several years together," Sam says with a small smile. "I miss him every day, but I wouldn't trade any of the time we got together for anything."

Bucky gets that. He nods. "I can't risk what I have now," he says. "I don't think I'd be as lucky as you were when you told Riley."

"I was fucking terrified when I confessed," Sam says. "I thought the same thing. But I couldn't keep it in anymore. I think you've got a better chance than _you _think you do; you might be too close to see clearly. Can't see the forest for the trees and all that."

"What would you know about it?" Bucky asks, his ears pink. "I think I'd know if my best friend was queer, Sam. He's only ever shown interest in women. Carter women, mostly."

"You didn't see the first time we met," Sam says with a laugh. "Fucker lapped my ass every goddamn morning jog for a week, then the first time we talked he insulted my running style and gave me this _grin._" Sam shakes his head at the memory. "Then about two days later everything with SHIELD and Hydra happened, and he found out you were still alive."

Bucky's eyes widen. "Oh."

"I flirted back a couple of times - might've done more if I didn't recognize that look on his face after the highway fight. Dead ringer for what I saw in the mirror every morning that first year after Riley died."

Bucky shakes his head. "It's not the same," he insists. "It's-- There's a lot of history there. We're only just getting to know each other again."

"Lot of people get to know each other through dates, I'm just saying." Sam's expression softens. "I'm not trying to push you, just. That man gave up the shield for you _twice. _Started an international incident to try to keep you safe, and now he's out here playing _Little House on the Prairie _with you. Worse comes to worst, he might not feel the same, but he's not going to let things get awkward."

"I'll think about it," Bucky tells him, mostly because it'll be a struggle not to think about it now. "But that's all, okay? You can't say anything to Steve if I decide not to."

"I won't," Sam swears. "This right here is all of the meddling I'm going to do. Everything's up to you or Steve to do yourselves."

Bucky smiles at that. "Thanks."

* * *

True to his word, Bucky does think about it - but that's all he does. While Sam's words of encouragement weren't unwelcome, they also weren't enough to convince Bucky to take such a big risk. It's a little awkward between him and Steve over the next few days, especially when they each climb into the same bed at night, but it's probably exacerbated by Bucky's own paranoia. Things smooth out by the end of the week, and then they're back to normal.

At least, as normal as they can get. Bucky keeps working the farm and Steve keeps helping with the rebuilding effort, and Bucky is just starting to settle back into the rhythm of it all when Steve comes home a month or so after Sam's visit with another guest. _Guests_, plural.

"Steve," Bucky says slowly, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Why do you have a box of chicks?"

Steve turns pleading eyes on Bucky. "Nobomi doesn't have room in her coop for them, and she didn't catch the broody hen in time. She asked if we could take them, told me she had already sexed them and there's several females and a couple of males in there."

"So you said yes?" Bucky demands. "What the hell are we supposed to do with chickens, Steve?"

"They can stay in the storage area while they're little, and it won't take long to build a coop," Steve points out. "And once they're grown we'll have eggs and meat we can trade and sell at the market."

Bucky just stares at him for a long moment - but then he laughs. "You're crazy," he says. "Do you even know the first thing about looking after chicks?"

Steve fidgets, a flush rising on his face. "Well. I know the basics? But I can look up anything I can't ask Nobomi about."

Bucky rolls his eyes. "Fine," he says, and points at Steve. "But they're your responsibility. I've got enough on my hands with the goats."Steve beams at him. "Thank you, Buck." He shifts the box of chicks to one arm so he can use the other to pull Bucky into a quick hug. 

Bucky laughs, and hugs Steve back. "Yeah yeah," he says. "Do you need help getting them set up?"

"If you could help me double-check the storage area, make sure we can set up a pen they won't be able to squeeze out of for a day or two, that would be great," Steve says, turning towards the barn. 

"Sure," Bucky agrees, already moving to follow Steve. "You'd better start salvaging materials to build a coup."

Steve laughs. "There's plenty of spare materials at the village, from where we've taken down what was used to board up the extra buildings. I'll bring some of them back tomorrow after talking with Nobomi, see what she recommends for a coop design."

"I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into," Bucky says, a teasing smile on his lips.

* * *

Steve, as it turns out, only has a vague idea of what he's getting himself into - but Nobomi is more than happy to help with any questions or concerns he has, and with her help, he quickly finds his feet. He _dotes_ on the chicks, treats them almost as if they were his own children, and it's not uncommon for him to spend the entire time Bucky is doing evening chores in the small pen they'd set up for the chicks when he's not working on building the perfect coop for them. It has an attached, covered run, and Steve takes care to follow all of Nobomi's suggestions to avoid predators getting into the coop. Bucky teases him _relentlessly_ about his near-obsession with the chicks, but Steve just bears it with a haughty look and a pointed comment about Bucky's dedication to his goats. That ends up devolving into a poking war, with no clear winner by the time they finally go to bed.

By the time the chickens are grown enough to be turned loose into the coop, they've developed distinct personalities and have been assigned names - including the smaller of the two roosters, who keeps his distance from everyone and everything but Steve and one of the nanny goats who lived in the stall next to them, and who often hangs out near the coop and run. Several days after they were introduced to the coop, Steve watches as he chases the other, larger rooster away from the fence where Nina is currently grazing, and laughs. "You know who he reminds me of?" Steve asks Bucky, refilling the water trough. "You."

"Me?" Bucky demands, affronted. "No. He's you all over."

"Nah, if he was like me, he'd be going after _everyone,_" Steve counters. "He's not, though; just chasing the other chickens away from me and Nina. Ergo, he's you."

"How does that make him me?" Bucky almost sounds offended.

"You're kidding, right?" Steve laughs. "Shit, Bucky, you were _always_ chasing people off of me. I mean, granted, I started _at least_ seventy percent of those fights, but you were like one of those damned nanny dogs."

Bucky chooses to ignore all of that. "He's a stubborn little jackass who doesn't know what's good for him," he argues. "He's you."

"Like you aren't just as stubborn as I am," Steve snorts. "You're the one who decided we were friends and then never left my side until I gave in, remember?"

"Well it worked, didn't it?"

"Well, yeah, but that just proves my point!" Steve says with a laugh. "If _I'm_ anyone in this little barnyard drama, then I'm Nina, weird as that sounds."

"Nina the fucking goat, Nina?" Bucky asks. He barks out a laugh. "Christ, all right, you can be a goat."

Steve finally turns his attention fully to Bucky, eyes narrowed. "That sounded almost _insulting,_ Bucky. You got a problem with me being a goat?" he asks, sniffing in fake offense.

Bucky grins at him. "As long as you ain't got a problem with me being a fuckin' chicken."

"Nope," Steve says, grinning. "Since we're in agreement, I say that his name is now Buck Buck."

Bucky groans and rolls his eyes. "Whatever," he says. "I'm still calling him Steve."

"You're such a rude asshole," Steve sighs. "Why am I in love with you, again?"

"It's just that he's so tiny and angry," Bucky goes on, "just like you used to be when--" He stops, turns to look Steve in the eye. "What did you just say?"

Steve looks like a deer in the headlights, apparently only having just realized what he'd said himself. "Um. I asked why I was in love with you?"

"But you're not in love with me," Bucky says, bewildered. "Are you?"

"Well I think I'd know," Steve says dryly.

"No," Bucky argues. "I think _I'd_ know."

"Well, obviously you don't, if this a surprise," Steve says with a roll of his eyes. Then he hesitates. "Is it... a _good _surprise, or - ?"

"Well, It depends," Bucky says. "How long?"

Steve bites his lip, hesitating again before he answers. "Before the war."

"_What?_" Bucky demands. He's distantly aware that he's lost his cool, but at this point he can't remember ever having any. "Steve!"

"_What?_" Steve snaps, defensive; his arms cross over his chest, and he can't quite meet Bucky's eyes. "When the hell was I supposed to tell you? When it was illegal? When it was illegal and we were in a damned _war zone_?"

"Anytime!" Bucky cries. "And we would have figured it out, because I was in love with you!"

Steve's gaze flies up to meet Bucky's, eyes wide. "What?"

"You heard me! Head-over-heels, stupidly gone on you!"

"What - But - I never had _any _clue you might be queer!" Steve splutters. "That first step was _terrifying _back then, Buck!"

"So what?" Bucky demands. "You've always been the brave one! And what about now? It's not illegal anymore, is it?"

"Well, no, but it was still goddamned terrifying to think about telling you! And you were _gone, _then trying to figure out who you were. And I didn't want to risk what we already had."

"Aw, fuck you," Bucky complains, but there's no real heat to it anymore. "I know my head's messed up, all right? That's why it had to come from you."

Steve flushes. "That's not what I meant, and you know it," he complains, but he finally steps forward, towards Bucky. "You said you _were _head over heels for me," he says slowly, cautiously. "What about now?"

Bucky ducks his head as he laughs softly, his hair falling into his face; it makes him look young when he looks back up at Steve through it, vulnerable in a way Steve can't remember him ever being. "What do you think?" he asks.

Steve laughs quietly, not unkindly. "I think I want to hear you say it, just to be sure," he says softly. "Because I am so damn in love with you it's embarrassing, but I don't want to assume anything about what you feel."

Bucky grins then, but it's still a small, shy thing. "Yeah," he says, "I love you, Steve. Even when you're comparing me to a fuckin' chicken."

"You're the one comparing me to a chicken and a goat," Steve retorts, moving closer until he can reach out and take Bucky's hand in his. "I've waited a long time to tell you how I feel."

"Well you've told me now," Bucky says. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Well," Steve says slowly, "I could do this." He steps closer, leans in slowly, telegraphing his movements clearly as he angles his head for a soft, chaste kiss. 

Bucky grants it to him with a gentle sigh, his hands coming up to rest on Steve's hips. It's brief, and achingly sweet, and they're both grinning like idiots when they pull back. "Not bad, Rogers," Bucky quips. He feels a little flushed. "We can do better, though."

Steve laughs. "'Not bad'?" he echoes, one arm winding around Bucky's waist, the other curling around his neck, thumb brushing at the cut of his jaw. "Why don't you come over here and show me how to do it better, then?"

"We both know you've had more practice than me this century," Bucky grumbles, but he's smiling when kisses Steve again.

Steve returns the kiss readily, indulging in it for a few long moments before he responds. "Two kisses in a decade is _not _a lot of practice," he says, laughing. "You're still the more experienced one of the two of us, Buck."

Bucky raises his eyebrows, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, really?"

Steve flushes, but he doesn't break eye contact. "Really. I've been busy, remember?"

Bucky's smirk doesn't falter, but he knows better than to push the matter. Instead, he tightens his grip on Steve's waist, pulls him even closer. "Then I guess we'd better get you caught up."

* * *

They spend a lot of time getting caught up over the next few months - as well as doing other things. Their goats and chickens are probably the most spoiled animals in the whole country by now, especially Steve/Buck Buck, who remains the runtiest rooster Bucky has ever seen - not that he's seen many roosters in his time - and who proves Bucky's point in naming him after Steve more and more each day. Steve's still helping with the rebuilding effort, but even as the project draws nearer towards its conclusion, he doesn't seem to be looking further afield. He seems content in a way Bucky's never seen him before, not even back in Brooklyn before the war, and Bucky thinks that maybe the little life they've set up for themselves here will be enough. It certainly feels like it will be for Bucky himself.

They're not completely cut off from everyone else, of course. They have friends in the village and in the city, and they're still regularly in touch with the palace. Sam drops by when he's not busy saving the world to throw the shield around with them and take a break from kissing babies. Even now that the shield isn't being carried around by a relic who martyred himself for his country and then got right back up again, extensive PR campaigns are still deemed a necessary evil for Captain America. Stark even calls a few times, to see how they're getting on and to make not-so-subtle enquiries about Wakandan technology. Bucky always leaves the room during these calls out of respect for Stark, but he gathers from Steve afterwards that while recovery is a long, slow process, he's going to be okay.

Things continue in their new approximation of the status quo for far longer than they have any right to expect, but finally reality comes knocking - in the form of Sam, turning up unannounced on their doorstep, and demanding they suit up.

He hasn't needed his Kevlar in so long that he's not entirely sure where in their tiny house it is, but Bucky is already reaching for the pistol strapped beneath their kitchen table when he asks, "What is it this time? More aliens? Nazis? Alien Nazis?"

"What?" Sam looks between Bucky and Steve, who is still holding their kitchen door open, his jaw slack with shock, despite the fact that Sam walked over the threshold as soon as they answered his knock. "We're not fighting anyone, what are you talking about? Is that a _gun?_"

Bucky glances down at the gun in question, now resting casually against his palm like it hasn't been over a year since he last held it, and then back up at Sam. Sam, who isn't wearing the suit, but is instead wearing jeans and a t-shirt, with an overnight bag in one hand and what looks like a dry-cleaner's bag slung over his shoulder. "We're not fighting?"

"We're not fighting. How many weapons do you have stashed in this place?"

Bucky exchanges a look with Steve. "A lot," he admits. "Old habits die hard."

Steve, who'd been poised to run to the bedroom, where his suit was stashed himself, visibly makes himself relax. "Yeah, they do," he agrees. "Why do you need us to suit up? Why aren't _you _suited up?"

"Not those suits!" Sam huffs. "Didn't you get the email I sent you last week?"

Steve's brow furrows, then his eyes widen. "Wait, the one about the meeting for the new Avengers?"

"That's today?" Bucky asks.

Sam rolls his eyes. "Do you guys live under a rock or something? The _meeting_ was on Tuesday. Now that it's all official, T'Challa's invited us to the palace tonight to celebrate international cooperation."

Steve glances at Bucky. "We were just planning to stay in, but if you feel up to it..."

"Do we even own suits?" Bucky asks.

Steve makes a face. "I think so? They're in the closet, but they should probably still fit."

"And we're definitely invited?" Bucky asks. They hadn't taken part in Tuesday's meeting for a reason; they're not Avengers anymore.

"Definitely," Sam says. "It's not just about the new Avengers. T'Challa and the rest of us want to honour what came before, as well. That means you guys."

Bucky looks at Steve, and shrugs. "Why not?"

"Alright," Steve says with a smile. "Let us get dressed and we'll go back with you to the palace."

Sam grins. "I'll wait," he says. "I'll just help myself to your fridge."

* * *

Their formal suits are indeed hanging in the closet, and it only takes an hour or so before they're ready to leave. Sam assures them that they're on time as they get into the transportation he brought, and they relax slightly. 

Steve had seen many of the parties Tony had thrown during their Avenger days, and he'd attended precisely as many as he had to to keep the peace with politics and Tony's own needling. This is reminiscent of those parties, though calmer somehow. The three of them are greeted warmly by the Dora Milaje guarding the entrance, and when T'Challa greets them inside, Steve files away the look on Sam's face - a little dopey, a lot like the look Sam had given him the first day they'd met - for future teasing opportunities. Last Steve had heard, T'Challa was in a relationship with Nakia, but with the way that T'Challa looked at Sam, Steve couldn't help but wonder if it might be a more open relationship than he'd first thought. 

Steve's brought out of his musing by the sound of his name being called; when he looks for the source, he spots Parker standing next to Strange and Tony. "Queens," he calls back, waving with a grin. "Isn't it a bit past your bedtime?"

"Shouldn't you be asleep in a rocking chair by now, Brookes?" Parker shoots back, leaving Tony and Strange behind as he comes closer. "It's good to see you two. You look good."

Bucky smiles at Parker, but it's a little tight around the edges. "Always a pleasure, kid," he says. "Gotta say though, I wish Wilson had thought to tell us your surrogate dad was coming."

Parker glances over his shoulder at the man in question for a moment. "Yeah, that's probably not a good surprise," he concedes. "He's not going to start anything, though."

"Neither am I," Bucky promises. He looks Stark over as subtly as he can, and then adds, "How is he?"

"Doing better every day," Parker answers, a smile playing about his mouth. "Using the Stones took a toll, but he's making progress."

Steve looks Tony over, taking in the scarring visible over the collar of his suit, the way he leans heavily on the cane in his hand. "That he's walking at all is a miracle. Tell him not to push himself too far, Queens."

Parker laughs quietly. "Like he'd listen to me. Have fun, you two; I'm going to see if I can find Princess Shuri, King T'Challa said she wanted to talk to me."

"See ya." Bucky watches the kid go with a fond smile, which quickly slips off his face when his gaze finds Tony. "Incoming," he murmurs to Steve. "I'll get outta your hair."

"Are you sure - " Steve starts, only to be interrupted by Tony. 

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you as well, Barnes." His tone holds no malice, and the slight smile he gives both Steve and Bucky is weary, strained - cautious. 

Bucky exchanges a quick look with Steve, but makes no further move to walk away. "What can we do for you, Stark?""I just wanted to apologize in person for my reaction in Siberia. Hell of a shock, but." Tony chuckles. "Well, that didn't give me license to kill you. And I wanted to congratulate you and Mister Formerly Star Spangled on finding a life for yourselves out here in the middle of the most technologically advanced country in the world. I'm kind of jealous, really."

"No, you're not," Bucky says, because he doesn't know what else he can say. "Sounds like you've got quite the set up for yourself back home."

"I do, but my tech's still way behind Wakanda's," Tony says, waving the hand not holding onto his cane dismissively. "I just wanted to apologize and say congratulations. It's been long enough and enough's happened, I think we can be that civil, at least."

"At least," Bucky agrees. He even manages a small smile. "For what little it's worth, I'm sorry, too. More than you know."

Tony's answering smile is more like a grimace. "I know." His smile turns into something more genuine after a moment. "Well, I'll leave you two alone for now. Don't be strangers." He holds out his free hand.

"You either, Tony," Steve says, clasping his hand. "Take care of yourself."

Bucky watches him walk away, and reaches out almost without thought to wrap an arm around Steve's waist. It's exactly the kind of casual, affectionate gesture he wouldn't have dreamed of trying in public even a month ago, but he's getting used to it. "Well," he says, "that was unexpected."

"Yes, yes it was," Steve says, bemused. "A good unexpected, though."

Bucky hums in agreement. "A lot's changed since then, I guess."

Steve winds his own arm around Bucky's waist, pulling him in closer. "A lot," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Bucky's temple. "But I think it all worked out in the end."

Bucky smiles softly and leans into Steve's touch. "Any second thoughts?" he asks mildly, like he knows the answer. "Itchin' to snatch that shield out of Sam's hands yet?"

"Only when he's holding it wrong," Steve laughs. "Or when he's about to throw it and accidentally take my head off."

"No burning desire to run off and save the world?" Bucky presses.

Steve smiles, humoring him. "Unless Thanos comes back from the dead or everyone else is captured? No."

"Don't joke about that," Bucky complains, but he's smiling, too.

"Hey guys!" They both turn to see Sam waving at them from a few feet away, seated around a table with Bruce and Wanda and Carol Danvers. Stark's heading their way, too. "Get over here, the speeches are about to start."

Steve pulls away, only to offer his hand to Bucky. "Shall we?"

Bucky slips his hand into Steve's, threading their fingers together and squeezing just a little. "Why not?"


End file.
